Trickster
by PenelopePotter28
Summary: /Seeing his daughter so lifeless, so seemingly dead, something just connected in him./  How one movie took down one of the more major villains, next to Father of course. Rated T for fake suicide.


"Are you sure this is going to work?"

I turned from where I was standing in front of a bowl that I was working with to the blonde behind me. The blonde who happened to be the supreme leader of the KND.

"Positive," I said, giving her a nod. "Well, for one anyway."

I went over to the window. "Abby," I said, gesturing her over. "Come over here by the window and….look sad."

I leaned out the window. "You ready down there?" I called out. The young boy standing a few feet down on the ground looked at me and gave a thumbs-up. "Alright," I said. "Film her. Just a few seconds is all we need."

I turned back to what I was doing.

"So who did you want for this role?" Rachel asked me.

"I was thinking Fanny," I told her.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Rachel waved Fanny over. I took a cotton swab in my hand.

"Alright. I'm gonna dab this fake blood on your neck, then when the camera starts rolling, you drop the knife," I handed her a kitchen knife, "and then fall to the floor. Almost as if you've just killed yourself."

Fanny looked at me a little confused, but nodded just the same. I nodded to Hoagie, who was holding the camera. I whispered to him exactly what to film, and he gave me a nod back. Gosh, there's a lot of nodding when you make a movie.

"Alright," I said. "Action!"

It seemed to be a simple adults-only movie. That's what he thought it would be anyway. Mr. Boss sat down with his popcorn.

The movie began. A message flashed across the screen. _Child abuse._. Wait a minute. This was not what he came to see.

After fifteen full minutes of a "child abuse is wrong" lecture (which he found very boring) the screen flashed another message. A voice came with it. A voice which, if he paid any attention to his kids' social lives, he would have recognized as mine.

"Chile abuse is never okay," the voice said. "It could lead to depression," -Abby's face staring out the window flashed across the screen- "and it could lead to suicide."

A new image came to the screen as the word _suicide_ echoed. A kitchen knife, stained with blood, fell to the floor. The screen cut to a girl falling down, lifeless, a slit in her throat.

And that wasn't just any girl.

That was his daughter, Fanny Fulbright.

Mr. Boss's eyes went wide as the screen itself. Seeing his daughter so lifeless, so seemingly dead, something just connected in him. He raced out of the theater as fast as he could, ignoring his friend's cries to come back. He had to make sure that hadn't really happened.

Fanny and I were listening to the whole thing outside the theater door. "Quick, hide!" I said, shoving her into a supply closet when I heard the word _suicide echo in my own voice. _

"_What-"_

"_Shhh!" I said. I ducked in with her and closed the door. _

"_Fanny!" I heard her dad's scream as he ran past us and slammed the door on his way out. I opened the door and strolled out._

"_What was that about?" she demanded._

_I smirked. "Time to give your dad the shock of a lifetime."_

_A half hour later, Mr. Boss had given up hope that it was fake. He saw the blood stain on the carpet in Fanny's room, the missing kitchen knife, and Fanny herself was nowhere to be found. He slumped himself on the couch and started to cry._

_He didn't notise me peeking in the window. I ducked down again to where Fanny was hiding beside me._

"_Now," I said, about to give her a long list of instructions, "go through the living room to the kitchen to put the knife back." I held out the knife she had used to "commit suicide" that had in fact come from her own kitchen. "Say hi to him or something so he'll notise you. Then if he asks, but only if he asks, which he probably will, claim you were playing at my house. And act like you have no idea what he's talking about if he mentions the suicide. If he asks about the knife, say Shawnee must have left it outside."_

_She nodded after every word. _

"_When he finally lets go of you, come out the back door and meet me."_

_She smiled and took the knife in her hand. She walked up the steps and opened the door. It creaked. She slowly walked in._

"_Hey Daddy," she said casually._

_Mr. Boss looked up and shot into a bear hug so fast that if you were to film him, he would have appeared to go straight from moping on the sofa to wrapping Fanny in his arms._

"_Fanny! I thought….I thought…."_

"_Woah, what's with all the squishing?" Fanny said. I smiled when I heard this. She was a good actress._

"_I thought you had committed suicide!" Mr. Boss finally got out._

"_What?" Fanny asked, confused. "I was just at Heather's house."_

_But Mr. Boss wasn't listening. "Aw man, if that's what this is going to lead to, I won't ever be mean to kids again!"_

_These words were what I had been waiting for. I had put a mini-recorder on the barrette Fanny was wearing just to get them down. Mr. Boss was crying and smiling and hugging all at once. Fanny was just standing there like he had gone off his rocker._

"_O…K, good to know Dad," she said. _

_He finally released her, and she walked through the kitchen, dropped off the knife, and slipped out the back door. A smile spread across her face._

"_DID YOU HEAR WHAT HE JUST SAID?" she screeched._

"_Yup, I heard everything," I said, taking the barrette from her hair. "And the recorder in this immortalizes it. We gotta tell EVERYBODY about this!"_

_So we did, and Rachel declared a big celebration. Mr. Boss WAS one of the more major villains, next to Father and stuff of course._

_The celebration was huge. It lasted until well into the night. Random operatives cheered and congratulated me and Fanny all night long. We laughed, we talked, we sang endless karaoke. _

_As everyone was leaving, Rachel finally caught up to us._

"_What you did was amazing," she said, "and that's coming from me."_

"_Hey," I said, "what are directors for?" I slapped a director's beret on my head and posed. We laughed, knowing that a huge part of our troubles was no more._


End file.
